Roran StrongHammer and the Brave 300
by Bob The Builder Of Stuff
Summary: What if Roran never left Carvahall? What if he led the villagers in a final stand, for death and glory? In Roran StrongHammer & the Brave 300 Roran leads the resistance and makes an absurd amount of references to the movie 300 from 2006. A FanFiction Written in October 2011 by the Comedic Legend Bob The Builder.
1. The Spine is Nuts

**King Roran and The Brave 300**

**Chapter 1**

**This Chapter is rated: K+**

**AN: Okay guys, This is basically a mix of the plot line of the movie/story of the 300 Spartans mixed around with the inheritance cycle, injected with humor. I think you will enjoy it... for those of you that don't know the story of the 300, you can read it directly below.**

**HOPE YOU ENJOY! (Bob the Builder October 2011)  
**

Back story  


For those of you unfamiliar with the tail of the brave 300, (If you don't know, I'm amazed at your lack of historical knowledge) allow me to fill you in.

Back in the day, to be exact, Ancient Greece, was in turmoil. (much like it is today) The mighty Persian empire was about to invade Greece. At the time Persia was the most powerful empire in the world. Their army numbered from 100,000 to 300,000, and was one of the largest military forces ever assembled at the time.

Greece however was not doing at well as it's powerful neighbor. Greece was split up into many city states that were constantly attacking each other, and therefore weakening all of them. But when the great Persian army came crushing into Greece, all that changed.

Due to the threat that Persia represented to all of greece, the city states decided to team up (Something unheard of for them) and work together to hold off the Persian Force. However, many of the city states belived that Persia could not be beaten, and were reluctant to join the battles.

One of these city states was SPARTA. Even though they arguably were the greatest fighters the world had ever seen, they were not ready to fully commit themselves to full war. Instead the council decided to send a smaller force. A force of 300.

The 300 were the best of the best. All Spartans were taken away from their families at the age of seven, and forced into brutal military training that only half of them survived. From there they were pushed into the military were they were used to crush other city states for their resources. And from there, the 300 were picked. Only men that had proven themselves in battle many times, had born at least one child, and were in top physical condition were chosen.

In other words they were the delta force of the ancient world. They were all but unstoppable.

When they met the Persian army at the battle of Thermopylae, the 300(and other soldiers from other city states) went head on against a force over twenty times in number, and hundreds of times more powerful.

In the end of the battle, the 300, and the other Greeks that participated in the battle were killed. But that's not the point. The point is they took 20,000+ Persians with them.

Because of the Spartans sacrifice, the Greeks later retook their land, and stopped the invasion. And their names were burned into history, to be remembered for all of human history.

**XXXXXXXXXXXXX**

Roran stared glumly out into the distance. He was hiding in the foothills of the spine, hiding from the Ra'zac who were waiting for him back in Carvahall. Roran was bored out of his mind to say the least, and he desperately wanted to go home and make out with his girlfriend Katrina.

Roran was about to pass into slumber when an explosion lit up the cloudy sky. Roran was blasted off his feet, and tumbled down the mountainous landscape like a smooth stone skipping on water.

When the world finally stopped spinning and hurting, Roran opened his eyes and saw that he had fallen about a third of a league from his campsite.

_Just great... _He thought, _random explosions... I guess it is to be expected when you're in the spine..._

Roran trudged back up the mountain grumbling and cursing about his bruises all the way. When he finally made it back up, he hunched over and put his hands on his knees, panting with the effort of the climb. When he finally lifted his head, all he could do was gape in shock.

A massive crater had replaced his campsite. The crater was still smoldering, and many of the rocks near it were glowing cherry red. But in the center of the crater lay the strangest thing of all.

It had a hard cover, and hundreds of thin paper like membranes coming out of it, each of which held a unique pattern of black and white squiggles. Roran carefully picked his way through the burning hot remains of his camp, trying to get a closer look. When he was only a few feet away from the mysterious object, he leaned over and picked it up.

_what is it?_ He wondered.

Roran inspected it for several minutes until he figured out what he was holding.

_It's a book!_

Roran smiled as he held it. He didn't know much about books, but he knew that if you could find a person who could read, books contained massive amounts of wisdom and knowledge. As he stared at the pages, he felt a longing in his heart.

_I wish I could read... _Roran thought, _if only Garrow was here... he was... smart. He knew how to... uhhh... read._

But just as he was about to turn and leave, another explosion shook the earth. Roran swore and dove to safety behind a tree.

"Why are there so many bloody explosions here!"

When he was sure that the explosions had passed, he looked back into the crater and saw that something else had appeared. It was a stone. The stone was smooth and polished, and had runes etched into it.

But Roran did not attempt to retrieve it. Instead, he waited for a while, trying to decide if the forest would explode again if he went into the crater. But after a while he grew bored again, and throwing caution to the wind, he walked over and picked it up.

A deep voice filled his head.

_Welcome to Rosetta's STONE, the fastest and most reliable way to learn a new language!_

The rock said.

Before he could do so much as flinch, the stone began injecting knowledge into his thick hill billy skull.

When the process was over, Roran doubled over in the worst headache he had felt in years. Trying to sooth himself, Roran curled up into a ball, closed his eyes, and began sucking his thumb. His head was throbbing with letters and words, commas and periods. He went on like that for several minutes until his new found knowledge settled down in his brain.

When he opened his eyes, he saw that _Rosetta's stone_ had disintegrated.

But when he stood up something magical happened. He looked at the book in his hand and _read_.

_The Brave 300 and The Battle of Thermopylae, _it read.

His mouth agape in shock, Roran turned the cover aside, and began to read the words printed inside the book.

_I cannot comprehend this enlightenment! I can now read! _The idea pleased Roran, but then began to bother him.

_Why did I say 'comprehend' and 'enlightenment'...?_ He wondered, _I don't even know what those words mean!_

Pushing these thoughts from his mind, Roran sat down in the middle of the smoldering crater and began to read the _The Brave 300 and The Battle of Thermopylae._

It was a fantastic tale. It told of how the people from a village named _Sparta _defended the land of _Greece _from the _Persian _Empire. And best of all, only 300 men stopped the entire army!

_What a wonderful tale! _Roran thought filled with hope, _I wish I could be as cool as the Spartans... _But Roran was pushed out of his daydreams when Horst swore at him from the top of the crater.

_"GREAT GOOGLY' MOOGLY' RORAN!" _The blacksmith shouted, "YOU'RE SUPPOSE TO BE HIDING FROM THE EMPIRE NOT BLOWING THE WHOLE DAMNED SPINE UP!"

_"_Hey Horst guess what!" Roran shouted back to the bewildered blacksmith, _"_I can read!"

Horst looked down at Roran, and was at a loss of words. There was a boy who was on the empires most wanted list, blasting holes in mountain, sitting in a crater several meters deep, sitting and minding his own business, _reading!_

"By Steel 'n Iron Roran, you're a strange kid 'y know that? There's just not many people like you... and I don't know if it's a good thing or a bad thing..." The blacksmith said trailing off, "But I suppose we should 'otta back to the Carvahall. We've been having a hard time down there, and those soldiers ar' getting in oar' way... So if you would get out of that crater, 'n follow me back, it would be... Um greatly appreciated I guess..."

Roran sighed, closed his book, and following the blacksmith out of the mountains.

_Perhaps Eragon was right... The spine isn't such a bad place after all!_

**AN: So how about it guys? I wrote this in 2011, back when I was a brand name for Inheritance Cycle FanFiction.** **I found this old story in my google drive account, so I thought I would put it up for shits and giggles. There are about 5 chapters of it I think, so I'll add more later. **


	2. The Court of Horst

Back at the village of Carvahall, things were looking grim. The soldiers occupying the town had caused quite the uproar when they killed Quimby. Now just about every family in Carvahall had sent someone to represent them in the secret town meeting in Horst's giant house. Everyone was shouting over each other trying to get a point across, trying accuse someone, or just being loud to add to the terrified distress that gripped the town. And this was the scene that Roran and Horst walked in on.

"EVERYBODY SHUT UP!" The burly blacksmith shouted over the noise, "I HAVE RETRIEVED RORAN FROM THE SPINE!"

Instantly everyone went quiet, ending their arguments to get a good look at the one who had brought these terrible problems to their once peaceful lives. Many people like Sloan the butcher stared at him with a look filled with hate and anger. Some looked at him with stares of confusion and bewilderment. And some people stared at him with looks of hope.

The stare down continued for many minutes, no one daring to even breathe or blink. The silenced charged the atmosphere until Horst was sure his house was about to explode out of the pure tension in the room.

But before it could, Roran broke the silence.

"Hey everyone!" He said cheerily, "Guess what! _I can read!_"

Everyone in the room blinked at once, and knitted their eyebrows in confusion muttering to each other under their breath. This went on for a couple seconds, but it then died down, stopped, and became quiet again. This time the room was full of not angry silence, but _awkward _silence_. _But just before someone could say it out loud, and make the situation even more awkward, someone started to clap.

it was a lone clap at first, but it was soon joined by others. And then it spread and spread until the whole room was shouting and cheering for Rorans amazing new accomplishment.

_"_Hooray for Roran!" Baldor shouted, _"He can actually read!"_

The clapping intensified, and even Sloan had to smile. But soon, the clapping died down, and the room was beginning to fall into _yet another_ silence. Roran sensed this, and started to think desperately for anything he could do to keep the villagers preoccupied.

_If the subject falls on me again, the villagers are sure to kick me out and hand me over to the empire... But what if I come up with a plan? What if I find a way to get rid of the empire, hold Carvahall, inspire the villagers, and live here happily ever after with Katerina?_

And with those thoughts Roran knew what he had to do.

_First I have to get the right mood going..._

After the clapping stopped, He let the room fall into silence for just a moment. And then he began the speech that would change Alagaesia forever.

"I hear that Quimbly is dead!" Roran shouted.

Most faced in the audience turned sad and mournful. But some people like Fisk the carpenter had to try hard to cover their smiles.

"He was a good man, always trying to keep the peace, he was a very good brewer, and he was always giving out annoying advice!" He continued, "But now the Ra'zac and their blasted soldiers have killed him, trashed the tavern, and nibbled his bones clean of the good man we all knew and loved!"

Roran waited for a response, and heard half half hearted clapping coming from the audience, and he heard coughing coming from Fisk.

"He did give some pretty annoying advice..." He coughed, "Annoyed the heck outta' me that one did..." This brought a greater amount of clapping from the people as they agreed with him.

_He was pretty darn annoying... _Roran thought to himself, _I'm so glad Brigit isn't here..._

"But none the less" He shouted over the noise, "He was a fellow citizen of Carvahall, and we must avenge his death! Who here is with me?"

At this the audience stopped clapping, and their faces turned sour.

"Tell me _Roran..._" Sloan said evilly, "Why should we risk our lives to protect you? This entire predicament is your fault!"

"Because we have to avenge Quimbly!"

"But his death was your fault wasn't it?" Another voice rang out, "If we just turned you over, we would be avenging Quimbly!"

The meeting roared with approval, as people banged their fists against the table, agreeing with the radical new proposal.

"What chance do we have against the empire's army anyway!" Sloan shouted, "There are _**OVER 9000**_ soldiers in his imperial army, and only about _300_ villagers in Carvahall!"

The group roared in agreement again, and Roran realized he was going to need to do something fast to save himself.

His mind racing, Roran thought over the arguments against him. He thought for several minutes, but was unable to find anything that could help him.

_Oh well... _He thought gloomily, _At least I will die with my dignity... and the ability to read..._

And then it all clicked. _Reading._

Roran looked down into his hand and looked at the book.

_The Brave 300 and The Battle of Thermopylae_. The title read. _What about the 'Brave 300 and The Battle of Carvahall'? _Roran wondered. _What if..._

Roran quickly flipped through the pages of the book until he found what he needed. Hastily reading, he struggled to memorize the great speech given by the leader of the spartans, the brave king Leonidas. And then he was ready to change history.

_**XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX**_

"OKAY EVERYONE LISTEN UP!" Roran yelled, "I HAVE A PLAN!"

Roran waited for the villagers to settle down, and then continued his speech.

"TODAY WE ARE FACED WITH A GREAT OBSTACLE..." he continued, "WE ARE FACED WITH THE ENTIRE MIGHT OF THE PERSIAN- I MEAN, GALBATORIXS ARMY!"

"WHY ARE YOU YELLING?" Horst shouted covering his ears.

"BECAUSE THAT'S WHAT A SPARTAN WOULD DO!" Roran replied.

"WELL PLEASE SCREAM IN A QUIETER VOICE!"

"Well anyway," Roran continued, "Today we face a harsh decision! Do we give up one of our very own to our worst enemy? Do we let our own friend, one of our own, to die at the hands of a merciless king? Or do we fight back as one and die as heroes?"

"Surrender the fool that got us into this mess!" Sloan shouted, "You're just trying to save your sorry hide from the empire!"

"What would you do if you were in my place Sloan?" Roran retaliated angrily, "If you condemn me to death, then you have condemned all of us to death! For we are all part of the same family, part of the same village! If you give me up who will be next? Katrina? Horst? Brigit?"

"Why would we surrender them? They're all innocent!" The old man growled back, "And I would sooner die than let my Katrina fall into the hands of the empire!"

"EXACTLY! Why should we surrender ourselves when we could all fight, all 300 of us, and show the empire that Palancer Vally belongs to the people of Palancer Vally!"

"Aye the boy is right!" Horst joined in, "We are all part of the same blood! We are all descendants of king Palancer himself! Royal blood flows through our veins why should we allow the empire to rule us when we could rule ourselves!"

At this the villagers began to get roused. They all got a hungry look in their eyes that longed for revenge. One by one they joined in until Rorans once radical idea became accepted.

_They would fight._

AN: Heres another one. I don't think there are that many left sorry guys.


	3. TownFire Story

"LETS DO IT!" Roran shouted, "LETS DO THE IMPOSSIBLE!"

The villagers roared in approval, and rose up to their feet hooting and jumping with eager excitement.

_And to think..._ Roran thought, _These are the same people who were going to have me killed only a few moments ago... stupid hill billies..._

"How do we begin Roran?" one of the men asked, "When will we begin this war?"

"WE WILL BEGIN NOW!" Roran shouted holding up his book, "But first we must understand the plan! Who wants to hear a story!"

The villagers became even more excited now. Ever since Brom the storyteller had left Carvahall, there were very few stories to keep them entertained.

"Wait a minute!" Sloan yelled urgently, "I have to get Katrina, she loves to hear stories!"

"Aye me to, let me go get my family!" Another villager joined in.

"_Alright..._" Roran sighed, "Go get everyone, and I will tell the story..."

At this the room burst into a frenzy of movement. As everyone filed out of the room Roran realized that Horst's house would not be big enough for all of Carvahall.

"Horst!" Roran called, "Can you aid me make a bonfire in the middle of town?"

"There isn't enough room in the center of town!" Horst replied, "We have to build it somewhere else."

"We can't build it in the outer parts of town, the soldiers will see us... If we can't build a bonfire, how about we just burn down Quimbley's house?"

"Did you really just say what I think you said?" Horst asked in shock, "Do you really propose that we burn down the home of one of our fallen comrades?"

"Well it's not like he needs it anymore..."

"Aye, well I guess that's true..." Horst said while thinking it over, "But then where will his family stay?"

"My father, and brother both died, my house got burned down, and I lived without any of it!" Roran said darkly, "I'm sure they will think of something... Brigit is a smart women..."

"Well... I guess we can burn the house... we needed to make some room over there for the training grounds anyway..." Horst said, _"LETS DO IT!"_

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

The stage was set. Three hundred villagers from Carvahall were being warmed by the burning structure of Quimbly's house. The villagers chattered in undertone, and several men guarded the edges of the group on the lookout for soldiers of the empire. Everyone was in a fairly good mood, most of them were roasting marshmallows and eating them in between sweet crackers while sitting in comfortable chairs. But there was no sign of Roran.

So they kept eating, and talking, and sitting, waiting.

But soon they grew impenitent.

"Where is Roran?" Fisk asked while eating a marshmallow, "That boy was suppos' to be here ages ago! I want to hear some stories!"

"Forget the stories!" Brigit yelled, "THAT DAMN BOY BURNED DOWN MY HOUSE!"

But at that moment Roran appeared with Katrina in hand.

"Sorry I'm late!" He apologized, "I was just busy making out with Katrina!"

"YOU WERE WHAT?" Sloan screamed in outrage, "HOW DARE YOU TOUCH YOUR FILTHY LIPS ON MY DAUGHTER! I'M HER FATHER YOU KNOW! WE SHOULD HAVE HAD YOU HANDED OVER TO THE EMPIRE! I'M GOING TO KILL YOU BOY!"

But before Sloan could stab him, Roran knocked the old man unconscious and threw his attacker on the ground.

"Oh Roran..." Katrina said dreamily, "You would do anything for me wouldn't you..."

"You bet babe!" Roran smiled, "But right now I need to go read a book!"

And with that, Roran jumped on stage and cleared his throat. Instantly, the crowd went silent, eager to hear Roran's exciting new tale. For several seconds there was nothing but the sound of crickets chirping their songs to the night wind. And all else was silent in suspense for Rorans tale. Even Quimbly's house burned quieter. The silence went on for several moments, but just as he was about to begin, Roran was cut off.

"HURRY UP WITH THE DAMNED STORY!" Morn yelled, "THESE SILENCES ARE DRIVING ME MADDER THAN GALBATORIX!"

The crowd roared with approval, so without further ado, Roran began his tale.

XXXXXXXXXXX

It was the early morning by the time Roran had finished his narrative. The sun was rising over the spine, warming the air and leaving a distant fog on the horizon while wetting ground with with dew. Everyone in the crowd was full of roasted marshmallows, and honey sweetened crackers, and many of the adults were sipping their morning coffee as they listened to the ending of Roran's tale.

"Remember us." As simple an order as a king can give. "Remember why we stood." For he did not wish tribute, nor song, nor monuments nor poems of war and valor. His wish was simple. "Remember us," he said to me. That was his hope, should any free soul come across that place, in all the countless centuries yet to be. May all our voices whisper to you from the ageless stones, "Go tell the Spartans, passerby, that here by Spartan law, we stood against our enemy."

When Roran was done, the villagers looked at him with dumbfound looks of disbelief.

"That can't be all of it!" Horst shouted, "Read more of the story!"

"There isn't any left in the book!" Roran shouted back, "We're at the end of the story!"

"Well now what do we do?" Morn asked, "What do we do about the empire?"

"We will do what the book said you stupid git!" Gertrude the healer said, "I say we start getting ready! Who's with me!"

"HORAH!" The villagers yelled in unison, "HORAH!"

"I'm going to make shields and spears!" Fisk shouted.

"Aye!" Horst agreed, "I will make some spear points and weapons!"

"I'm going to make leather battle undergarments and red capes!" Gedric yelled, "No one will be able to stop us if we fight in those!"

"I'll whip up some energy drinks! with Morn!" Brigit said, "We should all do our part!"

At this, everyone In the village all ran off and started building things, turning the once boring farming committee of Carvahall into a mighty war state. The crisp morning air was filled with all kinds of noises, the pumping of bellows, and the booming crashes that signaled the cutting down of a tree.

As Roran walked around the town, he was impressed by the people of Carvahall.

When roused, we country folk can do some pretty crazy things... He thought.

**AN: There you go guys. I think its half done now.**


	4. No One Kills the Messenger

By late morning, the small town of Carvahall was nowhere to be found. Giant stone walls encased the village, with the occasional watch tower jutting up from the gray lines of rock. Inside the town, guards paced back and forth keeping an eye out for anything out of the ordinary. The area where Quimbly's home used to be was now gone, replaced by a pit of smooth sand for practicing the art of combat.

And all around Carvahall there was a terrible racket. It was the sound of steel crashing together with steel. The sound of the new 300 warriors of Carvahall practicing. And it was this noise that woke up the sleeping Imperial soldiers camping outside.

XXXXXXXXXX

Of the platoon of the soldiers, one of the men was the captain named Durvin. Durvin was a rather tall man who was rather thin. He was fast, and his quick thinking and unmatched speed in battle had gotten him into Galbatorix's imperial army. And after having a hard night of drinking, he was rather upset that the people of Carvahall were awakening him from his sleep with their racket.

But when he was awoken, he discovered the wall. And the watchtowers. And the fact that the entire village of Carvahall had become a giant fortress. And that was how the battle of Carvahall Began.

XXXXXXXXXXX

A rather ragged looking trapper was making his way down the spine. It was late in the year to go trapping in the spine, but it was necessary. He wanted to make a family for himself, so he began trapping animals with his rusty old iron traps, selling their furs to the people of Carvahall and Therinsford. He didn't make much money, but it was a living none the less.

But as he passed by Igualda Falls that fine winter afternoon, he dropped his furs and heavy iron traps in shock. There were several large craters pounded into the earth, and also what seemed to be the remains of a camp. The trapper quickly picked up his fallen possessions, and started sprinting down the mountains, determined to tell everyone in Carvahall about his discovery. But when he arrived, Carvahall was no longer there.

In it's place was a giant fortified group of buildings, that closely resembled a military camp. He circled the seemingly new town, until he chanced upon a group of frantically arguing imperial soldiers.

"Ho' there good men of the empire!" He greeted them, "What trickery is this? I know these mountains as well as the back of my hand, and I could have sworn that this town was not here before!"

"Aye that I can agree with!" one of the soldiers replied, "This was not here before!"

"But what is it?" The captain replied, "Whatever it is, we better find out before the Ra'zac come here and find out for us!"

The men hummed with agreement, until they realized the implications of their leaders words.

"You don't mean to say that we're going in there do you? "One of the soldiers asked, "It looks mighty dangerous there, I'm not going in!"

The other men agreed with him, and even the captain nodded.

"You're right about that you are, but who do you suppose we send instead?"

The men grouped together in a circle and whispered to one another in undertones, they then broke apart and pointed at the unfortunate trapper.

"B-B-But why me!" The trapper stammered, "Your men of the empire! Soldiers that are suppose to protect us poor citizens!"

"Well you're right about that, so if you need any help just holler, and we'll be right with 'ya" The captain reassured him.

The trapper thought about turning around and running, but decided against it.

"Fine I'll go... what do you want me to do?"

The soldiers grouped up again, pulling out a piece of parchment, and a quill. They wrote many things on it, and then handed it to him.

The captain then took it from the men, and began explaining it to the trapper. "We want you to negotiate on behalf of the empire... just read this, and take these with you." He said motioning to a lumpy bag.

The trapper nodded stiffly, took the bag and parchment, and began walking over to the gates of Carvahall.

The trapper timidly knocked on the giant iron gates that were the only entrance to the town. The knocks seemed to be unheard for a moment, but as he raised his hand to knock again, the gates were pulled up on smoothly oiled gears.

There was no one to greet him beyond the gate, so he carefully began to edge forward. The moment he was in, the gate closed behind him with a resounding boom. The trapper was left alone in an empty stone courtyard, until a figure appeared from behind a house.

And that figure was of course _King_ Roran Stronghammer.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

At first Roran wondered why a lone trapper was standing in his courtyard. His teeth were chattering loudly, and it looked as though he might wet himself out of fright. He was carrying a scroll, a strange smelling lumpy bag, traps, and assorted animal skins. He looked rather bizarre with his assortment of mis-matched items, but Roran new exactly what he was.

_A messenger._

Roran confidently walked up to the messenger, and looked him in the eye. "What business do you have here messenger?"

The trapper looked confused for a moment, but he soon remembered his purpose, and opened the scroll of parchment. He squinted at words for a moment, and then began to read in the most diplomatic voice he could muster.

"Earth and water." The messenger read.

Roran expected the messenger to continue, but became confused when he didn't. "You came all the way from for earth and water? Do not be coy or stupid, messenger, You can afford neither here."

The trapper began to sweat as he realized the negotiations were not going well, so he decided to read more of the scroll. "If you value your lives over your complete annihilation... ...listen carefully, _King_. Galbatorix conquers and controls everything he rests his eyes upon. He leads an army so massive, it shakes the ground with its march. So vast, it drinks the rivers dry. All the Dragon-King Galbatorix requires is this: A simple offering of earth and water... ...a token of submission to the will of Dragon-Kind."

Roran scowled at the messenger as he realized what was happening.

_He wants us to surrender!_

Roran quickly hid his anger, and began leading the messenger to the center of the town. The messenger complied, and listened to Rorans response.

"Submission. Now, that's a bit of a problem... See, rumor has it... ...that the Varden have already turned you down. And if those _Rebels_ and _Surdans_ have found that kind of nerve, then..."

The trapper felt nervous as They walked into the town, and when Roran finished his answer, He felt sick to his stomach. He opened the scroll, and started reading yet again.

"We must be diplomatic! Choose your next words carefully, King! They may be your last as Ruler!"

Roran thought about his words, and he decided what he had to do next. But before he could pull out his sword Katrina ran up to him.

"Roran! The villagers were wondering about what color you wanted to paint the house... you see we were re-molding, and th- ACHOOO!" Katrina stopped talking as she sneezed. Roran patted her on the back, and looked at the messenger expectantly.

The trapper wondered if he had done something wrong. He was about to ask, but then stopped as Roran's expression became grim.

"YOU INSULTED MY QUEEN! YOU DIDN'T SAY _BLESS YOU_!" Roran yelled, "Earth and water huh? You'll find plenty of both down there..."

The trapper's eyes bulged as he realized the mistake. He also realized that Roran had led him up the tall walls that were now surrounding the town. He looked down he realized how high up he was, and how far below the banks of the Anora river were.

"This is madness! This is Blasphemy! No man, Imperial or Rebel, no man threatens a messenger!"

"You insulted my queen. You threaten my people with slavery and death. Oh, I've chosen my words carefully, messenger. Perhaps you should have done the same..."

"I'M NOT EVEN A MESSENGER!" The trapper screamed in desperation, "I'm just a trapper who's been trying to make an honest living off of the land! The Empire made me do this! I don't even know what this village is called! This is madness!"

Roran scowled at the messenger, and then a look of rage came across his face.

"YOU DON'T EVEN KNOW WHAT THE NAME OF OUR VILLAGE IS?" Roan screamed, "AND WHAT'S IN THAT BAG OF YOURS? THE HEADS OF CONQUERED KINGS?"

The trapper smiled timidly, and peeked in the brown cloth sack. When he lifted his head again it was white with shock.

_"He he... See funny story abou-"_

"THIS IS MADNESS?" Roran suddenly screamed, "THIS IS CARVAHALL!"

And with that, Roran kicked the trapper off of the wall, and down into the dark depths of the Anora river.


	5. Over 9000

The empire's soldiers watched in horror as a man with a strange beard kicked their messenger off of a wall, and into the Anora river. The captain of the men looked appalled, and he almost had trouble putting his fears aside so he could address his men.

"Alright men, you know what this means don't you?" He addressed the men.

The men looked at him stupidly and shook their heads.

"This was an act of war! Gather your things up and get in marching position!" he ordered.

The soldiers however did nothing, and all looked down at the ground as if they had just seen something interesting in the dirt.

"What is the matter with you!" The captain exclaimed, "We have a war to fight! Don't sit around like a bunch of idiot sheep! What is the matter!"

"Well..." one of the pike men spoke up, "You see, I'm not sure if it's the best idea to go around fighting a war with so few of us you know?"

The men murmured in agreement, and waited to see what their superior officer would say.

"You are men of the Empire! You were hand picked by the King to come here with the Ra'zac, and interrogate a criminal!" The captain rebutted, "How can you all be so afraid of some bloody flea bitten villagers?"

"Well..." The same pike man spoke up again, "These aren't really ordinary villagers are they? They just killed our messenger, and then shoved him off of a wall! No one, not even the _Surduns_ kill the messengers!"

The men agreed with him once more, and the captain was beginning to get frustrated.

"Fine we will send a messenger for reinforcements, but the rest of you must stay here and fight with me! Now which one of you wants to be the messenger?"

All of the men simultaneously raised their hands, and the captain felt like he was about to explode.

"ALL OF YOU CAN'T GO!" He hollered, "Why is it that when I asked for a messenger the first time no one volunteered, but _now_ when I ask for a messenger THE WHOLE DAMN COMPANY WANTS TO LEAVE?"

"When you asked the first time we knew that the messenger was going to get killed, but now we know that whoever stays here with you will get killed..." The pikeman answered.

The soldiers watched in mild fascination as the captain exploded into a rage of yelling and cursing.

"_YOU HAVEN'T SEEN THE LAST OF US VILLAGERS!_" The captain screamed, "_WHEN WE RETURN YOU WILL BE CRUSHED!_"

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

XXXXXXXXXXXX

Roran felt rather comfortable in his new leather underwear. The sun had long since gone down, and it was rather a rather cold night. But it kept him surprisingly warm along with his blood red cape, and along with his new spear, Roran felt like a true warrior.

The emperor's soldiers had disappeared, and even since, the villagers had been taking turns on guard duty, looking out for the cloaked strangers, or any more imperial soldiers. It was a rather mundane job, but it was for a purpose none the less.

"Roran!" Someone called from below the watchtower, "Do you want to switch out yet? You shift has been over for a while now, and Katrina needs you!"

Roran smiled at the thought of Katrina, and he was eager to see what she thought of his new outfit.

"Aye, I suppose it's time to get some shut eye..." Roran replied.

But before he left, he took one last look around the horizon. Seeing nothing but darkness, he shook the cold from his stiff limbs, and began to climb down the ladder to the ground below. Once he was there, he gave Baldor a pat on the back, and began jogging over to his new palace.

_How ironic... _He thought, _I went from a hostage running form the law, into a king in less than a week!_

Roran smiled at the thought, and sped his pace.

When he finally made it to his new palace, he found that he was rather pleased with the color of tiles Katrina had chosen. The marble was a gleaming white, and the tiles were many shades of red, from light pink, to dark maroon. He proceeded to walk down the cobblestone pathway until he got to the heavy iron doors. He pushed them open with ease, and joined Katrina.

XXXXXXX

It was early the next morning when Roran was awakened by a frantic young boy.

"THE ARMY IS HERE! THE ARMY IS HERE! WAKE UP KING _THE BLOODY IMPERIAL ARMY IS KICKING DOWN OUR DOOR!"_

"Alright alright..." Roran muttered, "Just five more minutes..."

"THE IMPERIALS WANT TO SEE YOU RIGHT NOW SIR IF YOU DON'T COME WERE ALL _GOING TO DIE AND THEN I'M NEVER GOING TO GET TO HAV-_"

Roran made the messenger boy shut up by putting a hand over his mouth.

"Just five more minutes..." He groaned, "I wish messenger boys had snooze buttons..."

Roran was about to fall back asleep when he was slapped hard across the face.

"ALRIGHT THAT'S IT!" He yelled, "I SAID FIVE MORE MINUTES! ARE YOU DEAF!"

"DON'T RAISE YOU VOICE WITH ME RORAN!" Katrina yelled back at him, "OR YOU WILL BE SORRY!"

Roran paled as he realized his mistake.

"Umm... sorry honey, what can I do for you..."

"You can start by getting you hands off of that poor boy's neck! That is no way to treat children!"

Roran smiled sheepishly as he dropped the suffocating messenger boy. He got up quickly and jumped into the bathroom, trying to escape his partners powerful stare.

XXXXXXXXX

After changing into his leather underwear and red cape, Roran left the house to access the Imperial threat. As he approached the guard towers and walls he was pleased to see that the army was already in formation.

The 300 villagers that made up the army of Carvahall were the best of the best. Out of the 321 people in the town, _only_ 300 were allowed in.

The rest were either to important to risk in battle, or just to useless to be of any help.

"Baldor!" Roran called out, "What is out current situation?"

"The imperial army has arrived in Palancer valley sir!" Baldor replied, "Apparently Galbatorix sent them all over the spine last night!"

"How did he get so many men over here so fast?"

"Well apparently he sent them by magic Sir, that would explain all of the magical explosions we heard last night."

Roran nodded his head understandingly, but then stopped.

"Wait... If you heard explosions last night why didn't you warn me! Were all of you night guards slacking off again?!"

"Well Sir..." One of the night guards replied, "Random explosions happen pretty often here in the spine."

"That's true..." Roran admitted, "How many men are there right now?"

"About 9,000 last time we checked." Baldor replied lazily.

"9,000 ALREADY!?" Roran hollered, "WHEN WAS THE LAST TIME YOU CHECKED!?"

"About two hours ago."

Roran sprinted to the top of the nearest guard tower and turned white with shock. Galbatorix's massive army loomed three leagues away from Carvahall. The army was massive, and completely covered the wide fields around the town.

It even seemed that the water levels in the Anora river were down. _They really do drink the rivers dry. _Roran realized with a sickening lurch.

Quickly counting out the 1,000 man platoons that covered the valley, Roran saw that there were now 12,000 men against them.

At that moment the only thing Roran really wanted to do was sit down and cry. _How are we going to fight 12,000 men of the professional imperial army will 300 hill billy villagers!? _Roran wondered miserably.


End file.
